


Kotetsu, God of Sex... err... Sort Of.

by BlackMajjicDuchess



Series: Dicking Around and Other Tales [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Bromance, Condoms, Dick Jokes, Gen, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 05:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1458373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackMajjicDuchess/pseuds/BlackMajjicDuchess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 4 of an inappropriately hilarious collection of the most epic bromance of the Naruto series.</p><p>Kotetsu bets he can use Izumo's 24-pack of condoms before they expire in two weeks. Izumo knows he's got this. There's no way he can lose that bet. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kotetsu, God of Sex... err... Sort Of.

It started with a box of condoms. 

Kotetsu threw it down on the table during morning coffee—a mistake, assuredly—and raised a knowing eyebrow at Izumo, wiggling his brows comically. “You know…” he dragged out, clearly having woken up in his piss-off-Izumo mode, “if you’re not going to use these, you should give them to me before they expire. I’ll use them.”

“Not now, Kotetsu,” Izumo growled, hunkering down over the coffee. You just… didn’t fuck with Izumo at coffee time. He had better things to worry about than whether or not his box of condoms was going to expire. Being alive, for example. And before the coffee had worked his magic, he was as far from a living, breathing human being as one could get. “What were you doing in my room?” he asked, confused. His brain was foggy, so he wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.

Kotetsu shrugged. “It smells funny in there and it’s ruining the zen of my room across the hall. So naturally I took the opportunity to paw through all of your things to piss you off. Then I found this lovely, unopened box of condoms," he noted with a flourish, "and they expire in like… two weeks.”

Izumo blinked wearily. “There are twenty-four in that box, Kotetsu,” he deadpanned with a level stare. “How do you plan to use twenty-four condoms in two weeks?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he didn’t exactly want to know the answer to that. Almost as much as he wanted to know the answer to that. Because, surely, such a feat was impressive.

“Magic. Wanna make a bet? If I can use your two dozen condoms in two weeks, I win.” He plastered a smug smile on his face.

Izumo—barely—did the math in his head. Two weeks was fourteen days. Twenty-four condoms in fourteen days amounted to needing to use 1.7 per day for the next two weeks. Kotetsu had never seen that kind of action in his life—though it was true that he saw more than Izumo. Something about the allure of the scar potential lurking beneath the bandages on his face and the roguish hairstyle, supposedly. Because yes, he had actually asked the last bimbo that left their apartment what it was that people saw in his ill-mannered friend.

He loved the guy, but really… Kotetsu was far from a catch... “You’re on. What are the stakes?”

“If I win, you get to deal with the Hokage on hangover patrol for the next twenty-four instances… one for each condom in that box.”

Izumo felt the twinge of unspeakable dread at that. He almost wanted to back out of this. Almost… except that he knew he would win this one. It was pretty much a sure thing, and watching Kotetsu debase himself to try to meet his quota was totally worth it. “Deal. But if I win—if you can’t use ALL. TWENTY-FOUR. CONDOMS—“ he clarified, “I get to pack your lunch in each of the ones that are left, and you have to eat in the mess hall with the genin.”

Kotetsu’s look of horror was satisfying. Eating with the genin would have been bad enough. The little brats were so proud of their headbands that they considered themselves on equal footing with every Shinobi and were especially irritating. Watching a chunin eat out of a condom was likely going to cause a lot of ridicule by snotty brats who already thought that they could take Kotetsu in a fight. Izumo thought Kotetsu was about to back down himself, but to his surprise, he shook his head in disbelief and said, “Yeah, fine. But well-played, my friend. Well-played indeed.”

A few minutes later, when Izumo was feeling more awake, he goaded, “Aren’t you going to get started? You’ve got a long ways to go!”

Kotetsu smiled a secret smile and shook his head. “Nahh… I got time. I have to work today, after all, so I should save my energy for now.”

The next day, there was another excuse. “It’s my day off, and I’m tired. I think I’ll just sleep all day.”

Izumo found it exceedingly strange, but as the days ticked by, he started to doubt himself and ask all the burning questions. Did Kotetsu really intend to use all twenty-four in one day? Did any man have that kind of stamina? Was his friend some kind of uber-skilled sex fiend? And gods, did he want to know the answer to that, or would it ruin him for life?

Every day it was the same. Some lame excuse to avoid going out to pick up women and make use of the quickly expiring box of rubbers. On day ten, Izumo started poking fun at him, thinking that perhaps he had this bet in the bag. “What do you want for lunch on Friday?” he asked cheerfully. “Remember, it needs to be about yey big,” he added, holding up his hands approximately six inches apart. “Although, if you’re really hungry, I can cram something in there and just stretch it around it. You’d have to like… suck it out of there, though. Might be a little awkward.” He paused. “Or enjoyable. I guess that all depends.”

Kotetsu was draped over the couch, feet kicked up on the coffee table and completely devoid of urgency. He sighed, relaxed, and answered with equal smugness, “I was thinking I might go out for lunch on Friday. Maybe ramen. Or barbecue. I haven’t decided yet. Maybe both!” he finished with a bright and happy smile. “I’d let you come, but I have a feeling you’re going to be busy.”

It threw Izumo for another loop. Kotetsu was up to something, he decided. He started tailing his friend, following him around his mundane business, trying to figure out what his game was. The results were disappointingly empty. Kotetsu wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. Work, liquor store for Tsunade, grocery store for a snack. No jaunts to the bar to look for his next victim. No passage through the ready room to hit on the chunin girls. Nothing.

Izumo was just as nervous as he was thrilled. Either he was about to win this bet in a real skunker, or Kotetsu was up to something that was so good that Izumo couldn’t figure it out. Either way spelled disaster for one of them.

Thursday came, the last day of the bet. It also happened to be his birthday, but as usual, the day came and went without comment. No one at the ready room remembered, but it was probably due to the fact that he never really made a big deal about it. It seemed even Kotetsu had forgotten this morning—though his friend had the day off, and annoyingly, he didn’t—merely wishing him a lovely day and lounging around on the couch with Icha Icha and a beer.

Tsunade was hitting the bottle by noon. Must have been a _really_ rough day, he thought with despair. Although, he remembered, tomorrow was Sakura’s day to care for the Hokage if she had a debilitating hangover. Yay! By the end of his workday, she was a wrathful mass of tits and spite and every object in her office that wasn’t bolted down became a life-threatening projectile. Each Shinobi became the enemy, and he beat a hasty retreat before the whole tower came down.

As it turned out, Shizune was the only one who remembered his birthday. “Izumo,” she said quietly. “It’s your birthday… I’ll deal with her today. Go on home, okay?”

He could have kissed her… well fuck it, why not? He _did_ kiss her, a non-platonic kiss that wasn’t too needy, because it was his birthday and she remembered. “Thanks, Shizune,” he said with a grin, and wasted _no fucking time at all_ getting the hell out.

He took a deep breath and pushed open the door to his apartment. He was greeted with a beautifully decorated house, complete with streamers, giant posters of dicks—because it was Kotetsu, and penis drawings were his calling card—and balloons. “Happy birthday!” Kotetsu cheered, throwing a handful of rice in the air for confetti.

Izumo smiled, relaxed at last. The day was over. He won the bet. Tsunade was getting shit-faced without him, and Kotetsu remembered his birthday. “Thanks, Kotetsu.”

Kotetsu grinned. The grin evolved into a throaty chuckle, and then an all out laugh. “Don’t thank me just yet. Haven’t you noticed anything… weird?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, perplexed. He was tired, and he really didn’t want to think too hard. “Just tell me?” he pleaded, exhausted.

“Don’t you recognize the balloons?” he asked, calf eyed and innocent.

 _Oh no…_ he thought with horror, his eyes falling upon the balloons and looking more closely. They were penis shaped, matching the pink streamers and the rest of the décor. His mouth fell open in a disbelieving ‘o.’ Shit, shit, shit. “Kotetsu!” he shouted with rage. “That hardly counts!”

Kotetsu burst out laughing, arms wrapped around his sides, holding the agony of full bellied laughter in and gasping for breath. “You said use them, you idiot! You didn’t say _how_!!! Your birthday just happened to be on the date of expiration and I thought they’d make appropriate—inappropriate—balloons for decorations!”

Izumo facepalmed. They’d been best friends for almost all of their twenty-nine years. He should have known Kotetsu had some kind of trick up his sleeves. That’s when he remembered how insanely drunk Tsunade was getting right now. And he also remembered… “I saw you at the liquor store yesterday! What were you buying, you prick?” 

Kotetsu erupted in another howl of laughter. “Enough sake to drop the Shinobi Alliance!” he admitted. “Then I told her it was your birthday and that she should celebrate and bade her good day.” His damnable smirk pissed Izumo off. “I win!” he declared, throwing up his hands for all the world like the prankster god.

He groaned. “Happy birthday, me,” he grumbled with a whoopdy doo swirl of his fingers. “I hate you so much, you know that?”

Kotetsu winked at him. “I love you, too, man.”

 


End file.
